it was, for she had often been there. Now
the rain-drops began to splash through the green boughs, and the thunder
rolled along the sky. The leaves all tossed about in a strong wind and
their soft rustles grew into a roar, and the branches and the whole tree
caught it up and called out so loud, as they writhed and twisted about
that Flax was almost deafened, the words of the song:

"O what is it shineth so golden-clear?"

Flax sped along through the wind and the rain and the thunder. She was
very much afraid that she should not reach the tall pine which was quite
a way distant before the sun shone out, and the rainbow came.

The sun was already breaking through the clouds when she came in sight
of it, way up above her on a rock. The rain-drops on the trees began to
shine like diamonds, and the words of the song rushed out from their
midst, louder and sweeter:

"O what is it shineth so golden-clear?"

Flax climbed for dear life. Red and green and golden rays were already
falling thick around her, and at the foot of the pine-tree something was
shining wonderfully clear and bright.

At last she reached it, and just at that instant the rainbow became a
perfect one, and there at the foot of the wonderful arch of glory was
the Pot of Gold. Flax could see it brighter than all the brightness of
the rainbow. She sank down beside it and put her hand on it, then she
closed her eyes and sat still, bathed in red and green and violet
light--that, and the golden light from the Pot, made her blind and
dizzy. As she sat there with her hand on the Pot of Gold at the foot
of the rainbow, she could hear the leaves over her singing louder and
louder, till the tones fairly rushed like a wind through her ears. But
this time they only sang the last words of the song:

"And whom is it for, O Pilgrim, pray?
For thee, Sweetheart, shouldst thou go that way."

At last she ventured to open her eyes. The rainbow had faded almost
entirely away, only a few tender rose and green shades were arching over
her; but the Pot of Gold under her hand was still there, and shining
brighter than ever. All the pine needles with which the ground around it
was thickly spread, were turned to needles of gold, and some stray
couplets of leaves which were springing up through them were all gilded.

Flax bent over it trembling and lifted the lid off the pot. She
expected, of course, to find it full of gold pieces that would buy the
grand house